Rogue
by Pandora40
Summary: When a Psi Cop disappears, Garibaldi must assist Bester in a hunt for those responsible in order to rescue the victim before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Babylon Five and all related characters are property of the Great Maker, J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Productions, and Warner Bros. Television.

EarthDome

Psi Corps

_The Corps is Mother. The Corps is father._ Alfred Bester recited the mantra again in his mind, as he took his time walking down the hallway, even though he was almost certain what this meeting was about. While he was deep in the thick of some of the worst of the Psi Corps, sometimes his own beloved organization scared the hell out of him. Ever since Sheridan's forces had discovered the true source of the Telepath "weapons" Bester had to confess that he wasn't sure what the Psi Corps was becoming. There were those in the Corps who didn't care about Sheridan's people or Earth in general and Bester knew he was expected to share this attitude, but secretly he didn't share it. Yes, he had his own plans for his telepaths but... he had despite himself come to respect Sheridan in his own way. Not that he would ever tell him that.

Did he feel remorse for what he had done to Garibaldi? Reprogramming him so that he would turn away from one of his closest friends in the universe? Hell, no. Garibaldi's betrayal hadn't helped him any directly, but Bester did enjoy getting the best of Sheridan's security chief after all, and orders were orders. It wasn't his fault. When the President calls, it's difficult to say no, especially under today's circumstances. One might find oneself up for treason, if one were to disobey direct orders from the Administration these days.

No, Bester didn't know what Earth was becoming, but nor did he particularly care. He would work with Sheridan against these Shadows of his, playing both sides against the middle, and he would be in a position to gain any information that might allow him to move those he knew were loyal to him – his Black Omega bloodhounds, for one, into position so that he could start his own little war. He nearly smiled at the thought – and then he thought of Carolyn.

Who was Carolyn? Carolyn was, in a few short words, the only living being Bester had ever felt real love for. The arranged marriage from the Psi Corps to his wife back on Mars was little more than tolerance of each other, and precious little of it at that. He had rarely seen his daughter since she was born and knew that she would be raised to become a Psi Cop. No, it was Carolyn who was the one light in the darkness of the world in which he was forced to exist. And she was safe, on Babylon Five under the protection of Sheridan and his people. Away from the insanity that was EarthDome these days. Away from Clark and his paranoia, his propaganda, his secrets. Bester knew that if Sheridan failed to move against Clark when he was done his little war with the Shadows, it would only be a matter of time before Clark turned the hysteria that was his anti-alien campaign now, onto telepaths and anyone else different.

He thought of Byron, and he sighed. What was it all for, he wondered, not for the first time. What was any of it for? Byron, his wayward protégé, was the one regret that he had about all of this. The loss of Byron hurt more than Bester liked to admit. Byron would have to be dealt with, but in time. There were other, more pressing problems, than just another blip. At the end of the day they were on the same side, and Bester knew that one day he would be able to explain this to Byron and the others who had followed him, make them understand. Bring them home.

And so Bester, his blocks firmly in place (since some of his thoughts could be considered treason) opened the door and walked into the meeting that he was expected to attend. Was it worth it at the end of the day? As Sheridan so gently put it, abso-fraggin'-lutely, dammit.

"Ah, Al, thank you for coming," David, his supervisor, pointed to the chair across from the desk and reached for the cup of coffee in front of him. While David often had trainees in his office for Bester to meet or other Psi Cops with whom he wanted to discuss whatever problem happened to be at hand, there were no such individuals today, which told Bester that something unexpected was up.

"We have a rogue problem. It's a special case, one I'd like you on in particular. One of our finest has, suddenly and abruptly, decided to stray from our fold. I think we can talk her down, bring her back to the family, with a minimum of bloodshed. She's been doing some fairly intense training lately and I think that might be partly responsible," David said with a pained look on his face.

"I'll take care of it," Bester said confidently. "Who is it?"

"Karen Langham. I'm sorry, Al." David said sadly.

"I don't believe it," Bester said, the fight suddenly going out of him. "Karen would never betray the Corps."

"I know, which is why I wanted you on this one, Al. She's loyal to you in particular and whatever is going on may be able to be explained. I hope I'm wrong, but the package we received in the mail tells me that she meant this as a personal message to us. Fingerprint and DNA checks confirmed that this is indeed from Karen, Al." He passed a package across the desk and Bester took it. Using his right hand and holding the package between his knees he removed the contents. A pair of black leather gloves, an unregistered PPG handgun and a Psi Corps badge were all that were inside. Bester shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the reality of it.

"You've tested for DNA, I gather," he said.

"Yes, and dusted her badge and gun for prints. Only Karen's are on the badge and the gun, and the envelope for that matter."

"I can't accept this. She wouldn't have betrayed us." the idea was foreign to him. She was his protege, after Byron had left them, he refused to believe that he would have been fooled a second time. "She must be in trouble. Where did the package originate?"

"Your favorite place in the universe," David said with a spark of slight amusement in his eyes despite the situation at hand, which made Bester close his eyes in anticipation of the rest of the answer. "Babylon Five."

Babylon Five

Customs

"You know, it's actually been a quiet day for a change," Michael Garibaldi remarked to his second, Zack Allen, as he sat on his butt on a railing and stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing around in boredom at the few aliens and humans still milling about, mostly, now, those waiting for passengers aboard the transport from Earth that had just docked. "I would just love to be bored outta my skull for twenty-four hours. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Come on, Chief. Surely the Universe will give us one day, one day in five years, when absolutely nothing happens."

"Don't jinx it, Zack, those are famous last words around here."

"Come on, Chief, it's almost the end of the shift. What's going to happen in the next ten minutes? You think the Second Coming is going to come through the --" Zack broke off and blinked in surprise at the passenger, while not the Second Coming, equally as unwelcome depending on your point of view.

"I believe, Mr. Allen," Alfred Bester said, holding out his identicard with his good hand, "That the word you happen to be looking for is 'door.'"

"Swell," Garibaldi observed. "Told you. I'll go tell the Captain. Catch you later, Zack." Giving Bester a look he felt was well deserved Garibaldi headed for the turbolift. Famous last words. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

See part 1 for disclaimers

Pacing in his usual quarters in the brig, Alfred Bester glanced at his watch impatiently. Under normal circumstances, the surroundings here to which he had become somewhat accustomed had no effect other than mild amusement, but today the four walls were closing in on him. Even if they had to give him the sleepers, he'd prefer that to being stuck in here, because at least he could be out there, doing something, trying to find her, rather than stuck in here. He refused to believe that he could have been fooled a second time. Karen was not the type to betray the Corps, not the type to just walk away from everything they had begun to build together. Though his heart belonged to Carolyn, Karen was as gentle, compassionate, and warm as it was possible for a Psi Cop to be, and she cared about what she was doing and the people she was saving. She had the stomach for the job, while Byron had not. She knew when a message had to be sent to discourage future dissidents – and how to eliminate a mundane when it was necessary. She was, quite honestly, the pride of his career. She was everything Bester had hoped that Byron would become, had succeeded where Byron had failed him. She would not walk away from the Corps. She was in trouble. He was convinced of it.

Yanking his glove off his right hand with his teeth, Bester walked to the wall and placed his hand against it, reaching out, trying to sense her presence. A faint, weak spark of it was all he could find, but it was enough to convince him that she was here. The weakness of the spark of her presence worried him. Had she been injured? Was she being tortured?

"Dammit, let me out of here," he growled aloud at the security camera, uncharacteristically impatient. "I have work to do." There was no reply, of course. Sheridan was probably enjoying himself, watching Bester pace and stew. She was Corps, and so Karen was family. Not only that, but she was his protégé. He owed it to her to rescue her. She had shown him that there were still those in the Corps who did care about what they were doing, and had reasons beyond their own political agendas for why they were doing it.

"Look at him," Garibaldi said, motioning to the pacing Bester on the screen connected to the camera in his cell. "He's worried."

"He's more than worried, he's agitated," Sheridan agreed. "It's not like him. You'd almost think something was – bothering him."

"Well, at least we know he's human. It's possible for him to be rattled after all," Garibaldi said. "All right. Zack, cut him loose and get him in here. Let's get this over with." Zack nodded and headed for the cell.

"It's about time!" Bester growled as the door opened. "Can I get on with my job now?"

"It's always a job to you, isn't it, Mr. Bester. For a moment I thought that you might actually care about this person you say you're looking for."

"As much as it might surprise you to learn otherwise, Mr. Allen," Bester said coolly, "I do." Without another word he turned to Sheridan the moment they entered the Security office. "Captain, I'd appreciate avoiding further delays by getting on with what I came here to do."

"Care to fill us in on why you're here, Mr. Bester?" Sheridan asked. Bester looked from Sheridan to Garibaldi for a moment and sighed.

"Fine. Fine. Anything that I might be able to get to work. There's a Psi Cop missing. The Corps is saying she went Rogue, but I don't think so. Not in this case."

"Yeah, why is that?" Zack asked patronizingly.

"She's my... protégé." Bester said. "She's a good cop and fiercely loyal to the Corps. If she is missing, it's because something bad has happened to her. I must find her."

"So far I don't see a problem," Garibaldi observed, and was rewarded to see Bester clenching his good hand into a fist. He'd never seen the Psi Cop get mad except when he didn't get his way, didn't get the rogue he had come for.

"If she is Rogue, then what?" Garibaldi asked.

"She isn't," Bester insisted. Garibaldi and Zack looked at each other, and Garibaldi raised one eyebrow skeptically. Bester didn't have to be a telepath to know what he was thinking: _yeah, whatever._

"The day I see you care for anyone, Mr. Bester, is the day the world crashes down around us," Sheridan said. "Nonetheless, you have the right to try to find her. All right. Zack, Garibaldi, give him whatever help he needs. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner Mr. Bester can be on his way."

"Thank you, Captain." He'd meant the tone to sound grudgingly grateful, but it didn't work, and it came out straight and honest, prompting another exchange of looks, but Bester turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Uneasy Allies

Three days later, the search of the station from top to bottom, across all levels, had come up empty. Frustrated and exhausted, Bester collapsed onto the sofa in his quarters, hurting more than he wanted to show to Garibaldi and the rest. Karen was special to him in a way no one had ever been, except for Carolyn, and that was different. Still convinced that she wasn't rogue, Bester yanked his glove from his good hand with his teeth, walked to the nearest wall, and placed his hand on the wall. Closing his eyes, he reached out, searching for the familiarity of her presence. She wasn't hiding from him. He was certain of it. He felt a faint brush against his mind and knew that it could only be her.

"Where are you?" He asked aloud, sending the thoughts with it. "I'll come to you if you would only tell me where you are." He felt an overwhelming sense of pain and sadness, and then everything went black in his mind, as though she had lost consciousness. As if that one effort to contact him was all she could do in whatever state she happened to be in. Bester clenched his right hand into a fist. She was in trouble, but she was alive – for now. He had to get to her, and soon. Making himself a strong cup of coffee, he grabbed a fast shower and returned to his search.

Brown Sector. Why was it always Brown Sector that everything went wrong? He was about to reach for his PPG when he sensed a familiar presence and gave an amused smirk.

"Mister Garibaldi," he greeted. "Checking up on my progress? Or just keeping an eye on me?" he asked. Whether he liked Bester personally or not, Bester knew that Garibaldi smelled a mystery and thus was drawn to the case, even if he didn't want to be. Garibaldi, too, suspected that there was more to this than a rogue Psi Cop, and Bester had to grant him some small measure of respect for that.

"A little of both, actually. Anything?"

"No. If she could, she'd tell me where she was."

"Have you thought that maybe she's just shielding herself to keep you out? To keep you away from her trail?"

"In the case of an ordinary rogue, Mister Garibaldi, I would agree with you. But Karen isn't an ordinary rogue. I don't personally believe she is rogue at all. I think she's been kidnapped."

"If she's been kidnapped, why haven't we received a ransom demand? Has the Psi Corps received such a message?"

"If they have, they haven't felt it necessary to inform me," Bester admitted. "But I don't believe so. Whoever is doing this isn't out for money."

"I hate to admit it, but my gut says you're right. That ain't it," Garibaldi confessed, and Bester glanced at him.

"On my side, Mr. Garibaldi?"

"For now. If for no other reason than to get your butt off this station as quickly as possible."

"My butt as you say would be happy to oblige, as long as the rest of me follows," Bester said in a dark attempt at humor, and caught the flash of amusement Garibaldi tried in spite of himself to hide. As much as they might irritate one another, Bester knew that in this case, they were out for the same goal. The truth.

"I must be more tired than I thought," Garibaldi muttered.

"Or just getting to know me," Bester said with a smart-ass grin, one which irritated Garibaldi further.

"I know you well enough already. Any more and I'd have to space you." Garibaldi said matter-of-factly. Bester gave a mildly amused smirk and did not reply. Walking to the nearest wall he again yanked his glove off his right hand and closed his eyes. They were alone in the corridor and so it was quiet. Reaching beyond the noise from the market they had just come through he searched again for Karen's presence.

/Can you hear me?/ he asked telepathically. /Can you tell me where you are?/

/Al.../ came the weak reply. /Help me./ and then the voice was gone. He looked at Garibaldi, worry in his dark eyes and, to Garibaldi's great surprise, pain.

"She's in trouble. I was right."

"And you can feel that from touching the wall?" Garibaldi asked skeptically. "I thought telepaths, even Psi Cops, had to be on a direct line of sight for that sort of thing."

"Not when you have the bond of friendship that Karen and I do, Mr. Garibaldi. Don't forget. We're both rated P12. It's how I know she's here. It's difficult to explain to a mundane. The easiest way I can phrase it is to say that I sense her... essence. The trail of her thoughts in the walls of the places she has passed."

"Like an empath?"

"Somewhat, but also her true presence as well," Bester said. "In any case, we're wasting time. We're getting closer." He continued down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Please see part one for disclaimers.

Author's note: thanks to those who've stuck with me and sorry for the delay in updates. Please leave a review behind when you've finished reading.

It was late. Seven hours they had been walking, stopping only for a meal bar (which had been about as tasty as chewing on sand) and a cold drink they had continued on. Both of them had the sense that they were close. Exhausted and frustrated, both Bester and Garibaldi were irritable and had walked for the past hour in silence, resting only for those brief moments when Bester paused to scan for the trail of her thoughts. Each time, her presence grew weaker - but not further away.

"We're running out of time," he said, using his teeth to pull his glove back onto his hand. "She'll be dead soon if we don't get to her."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Garibaldi snapped. "The first fourty-eight hours are critical. After that, the trail starts to go cold. We're already at fifty-two. Whoever is behind this has scared the locals enough that they aren't talking. Not that they talk to us much to start with."

"Then I suggest you have your people double their efforts, Mister Garibaldi, and then we can get this over with."

"They're already working around the clock, Bester, but this place is five miles long, and the bad guys know all the ways in and outta here, all the places to hide to get around my forces. They're searching every quarters but it'll take time."

"Time, is something we no longer have the luxury of, Mr. Garibaldi. I-" he broke off as a loud scream sounded down the hall and his eyes went wide. "It's her!" and he took off running, Garibaldi at his heels and his PPG in his hand.

"It came from there!" Garibaldi pointed at a door in front of them and yanked his security card out of his pocket. "Computer, override lock, voice identification Michael Garibaldi!"

"Confirmed," the computer replied, and the door opened. The pair sprinted inside, both with PPGs out, both firing as soon as the "bad guys" opened fire on them. Diving behind the nearest table as Garibaldi knocked it over, Bester killed the one who was standing over Karen with a large knife, with one shot. The quarters reeked of the stench of blood. As Garibaldi killed the other guard Bester ran to Karen's side. She was unconscious, bleeding, tortured. Sick to his stomach for the first time in more years than he could remember, Bester bolted for the bathroom as Garibaldi called it into medlab for Franklin and a trauma team to get there, fast.

"I didn't think it possible," Garibaldi, still exhausted, said later that night, long after Karen Langham had been in surgery for several hours, standing behind the iso-lab glass watching an exhausted Bester with his gloved hand resting on Karen's. "I didn't know he had it in him. I guess he's human after all."

"You know," Franklin returned from beside him. "G'Kar once said that no one here is exactly what he appears. I guess even Bester falls into that category."

"Yeah, maybe so. He must really care about her," Garibaldi said, watching as the exhausted Psi Cop laid his head down next to Karen Langham's and went to sleep in what looked like an immensely uncomfortable position.

"Did your people find out what they wanted from her?" Franklin asked, curiosity in his expression.

"Nah. Zack dug up a little on the creeps torturing her, I guess they just had a beef against the Psi Corps in general. Something about a brother who went rogue who was killed in the attempt to take him back to the Corps. Looks like our two perps were the only ones responsible; I don't think we'll be having any more trouble from them."

"I hope you're right."

Four days later

Karen Langham woke slowly, reluctantly, not wanting to come out of the sleep and back into a world that was, to her, terrifying. The fear of everything that had happened, that **he** would be above her when she woke, immobilized her and she did not want to open her eyes, but some part of her told her that she must – and even that it might be safe, since there was, for a change, no pain.

Al Bester lay asleep beside her, his head resting on the bed, clearly exhausted. She doubted that he'd even left her side. She couldn't help it – she smiled. Bester was many things, but to those he cared about, he was intensely loyal.

A man in a grey security uniform stood by the door, a PPG on his hip, and Karen felt the presence of two others just outside of it, protection. Reassuring. Safe. She was safe. A handsome man walked into her room and she recognized an Earth Force medical insignia. Her doctor, then.

"I'm Doctor Stephen Franklin," he announced. "Welcome back." he had a nice smile. Karen nodded.

"Thank you. How long have I-"

"Four days, maybe a little longer. We don't know how long you'd been unconscious before they found you."

"They?"

"Bester, and our security chief, Michael Garibaldi. They killed the men who hurt you. You're safe now." Closing her eyes, Karen nodded.

"Al?" she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. Bester jerked awake, startled, and looked at her with a soft smile.

"You're awake," he greeted. Karen regarded him fondly.

"So it would seem," she said weakly. "I heard you killed him."

"I did," he said. "He hurt you."

"Do you have any pain?" Doctor Franklin asked. Karen shook her head.

"Physically, no." She glanced at Bester and reached for his hand. "Can you stay with me?" she asked. He nodded.

"Of course." he smiled. The Corps said you went rogue," he said when Franklin had finished his checkup and left. She shook her head.

"Not rogue. I was chasing a blip. Stevens. He'll be long gone, now," she said regretfully. "I failed, Al."

"No," Bester said firmly, shaking his head. "You're alive. You didn't fail." Smiling, Karen squeezed Bester's hand and went to sleep. Noticing, Franklin came over and checked her to make sure everything was as it should be.

"She's sleeping," he assured Bester. "You ought to get some rest yourself. You've had a hard couple of days."

"Yes. Thank you, Doctor." Bester stood. "Please call me if she wakes?"

"I will."

"I'll be back soon," he told Karen, his hand resting on hers, leaving thoughts in her mind. She did not stir, and he retreated to his quarters for a shower and a nap. He felt guilty for leaving her side, and wished he had not shown such weakness in front of Garibaldi and the others. He knew that he would not truly rest, but two or three hours away would make Franklin happy, and he needed a shower badly.

After a shower, he rested for three hours, then returned to medlab. He could rest the remainder of the night at her side, and thus keep his promise to stay with her.

Three days later, satisfied that she was all right Franklin released her from the hospital. "Doctor. Thank you for everything." While still not as strong as she'd prefer, Karen was back on her feet, and thus well enough to return to earth.

"You'll see that she rests during the trip?" Franklin asked Bester, who nodded. "Of course, thank you, Doctor." Bester looked up as Michael Garibaldi walked into sickbay.

"Mister Garibaldi. I wanted to thank you for your help in finding her."

"It's my job," he said noncommittally.

"You realize, of course, that things must return to the way they were, when it comes to us. We were allies this time – because of a common goal – but now I return to the Corps, and thus to our old disagreements."

"Yes." he looked at Karen. "And you, take care of those injuries."

"Yes, Sir." she smiled at Bester and gave the same salute Bester had the first time he'd come on board, reminding Garibaldi that she was a Psi Cop, just like Bester. "Be seeing you." They boarded the shuttle that was fueled up and waiting for them. Garibaldi sighed as he watched them go. Some things never changed.


End file.
